


dream a little dream but don't kill me

by ratbrain



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, character death but its in a dream so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28047507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratbrain/pseuds/ratbrain
Summary: Jonny has a nightmare where Tim dies (and stays dead) and Tim comforts him.
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville/Gunpowder Tim
Comments: 12
Kudos: 49





	dream a little dream but don't kill me

“Jonny, he’s gone!” Carmilla is telling him, but he’s not listening.

“No, come on we can  _ do  _ something! You’re a  _ doctor,  _ help him!” he’s shouting, but he knows it's pointless. He can see Tim lying out on the table in front of them, eyes a bloody mess of mangled flesh and tissue and a permanent smile carved into his dead face. Jonny hates to admit it, but he looks peaceful. 

So peaceful, in fact, that it allows that familiar voice of self deprecation to creep in.  _ It’s better this way,  _ it tells him.  _ After all, if you really loved him you wouldn’t deem him to a life of immortality with you, would you? Even you, in all your stupidity, couldn’t possibly think that’s a good idea.  _

And it hurts. It hurts because part of him knows that’s true. He thinks vaguely of a saying involving loving someone and setting them free, but he can’t remember it in full right now, too many things are happening. He did love Tim, had loved him since he first introduced himself in the trenches of the moon. He knew how horrible immortality could be, and the wretched things that it did to your mind. He wanted to believe that there was still enough good left in him after everything that he could never expose Tim, sweet and beautiful Tim, to something as horrible as that. 

But also, he knew he was selfish. He could write it off as some “love is blinding” type of bullshit, but even he knew that there was just no other way to look at it. He was selfish and he wanted Tim immortal so he could have him to himself and not have to say goodbye to him. 

But now Tim was dead so it didn’t even matter. 

That didn’t mean he was going to stop trying, though. 

“Come on there’s gotta be something you can do!” He says, only to look up and realize Carmilla isn’t even there anymore. Where did she go? He needed her and she just left him. Maybe she’s doing it on purpose, he thinks. Just so he knows how sick and twisted it is that he could even think of wanting Tim immortal. 

“Tim, please don’t die,” he whispers quietly to the body on the table, but he knows it’s no use. He’s already dead, and there’s nothing he can do and it’s better that way. He looks down and for the first time in however many years, he cries. 

“Stupid,” he laughs weakly, telling himself that it makes him feel better, as he leans down to push some of the hair out of Tim’s face. “Always had such big ideas, told you it’d destroy you one day.” Which was true, Jonny had frequently said that. But just because he said it didn’t mean he really thought it was true, it was just a fucking expression. 

He thought of when they first met. How he’d laughed at Tim’s innocence, only to miss it dearly when it was gone and protect whatever was left of it with what little protection he could offer. Tim sitting next to him as he complained about the fucking songs but still sang every word under his breath. Or the time Tim had given Jonny his rations of alcohol for no other reason than he was sweet enough to do something like that and they had a contest to see who could do a more dramatic performance of whatever the song was that night. Who had won? He couldn’t remember now and it didn’t matter. He loved him and he was never going to see him again and the realization slowly crept its way up his throat like bile until he felt certain he was going to be sick all over Tim’s corpse. 

Jonny woke up with a violent start, taking in deep breaths as if it was the last time he could ever do so. He looked around wildly, trying to take in anything that would make sense. 

He was in Tim’s room, he could tell even in the dark by the clean outline of things and the feel of his blankets. He was in Tim’s room and he looked next to him and saw Tim sleeping under the blanket. Even if he was still panicked, that at least made him smile. Tim had always been an unnaturally heavy sleeper, and during the moon war Jonny used to say he’d be the most likely to get shot because of it. 

He shook Tim’s shoulder, not even taking the time to debate if it was wrong to wake him up over something so stupid. 

Tim sat up, and Jonny could faintly hear his mechanical eyes refocusing as he looked at him. 

“Jonny, what’s-” he said, but that was all he was able to get out before Jonny clung to his shoulders and started sobbing. 

That woke him up pretty quick. “Jonny, what’s wrong?” he asked, “Are you hurt?” he felt around for injuries, but stopped when Jonny shook his head no against him. 

“Bad dream?” he asked, and Jonny nodded. Nightmares weren’t exactly a frequent occurrence with him, but they were common enough that they weren’t entirely unusual. After all, you didn’t get to go through a few centuries worth of trauma with nothing to show for it.

“Okay, it’s alright, there’s nothing to cry over,” Tim soothed, sitting up and gathering Jonny into his lap. “You’re alright, it’s okay.”

“D-dreamt you were dead,” Jonny said in between sobs, “It was after the war and we picked you up only this time we were too late. I thought I was never gonna see you again.”

“Well I’m right here, Jonny-love. It was only a bad dream, that’s all. Deep breaths Jonny, you’re alright.”

Jonny tried to follow Tim’s instructions, and after a while his breathing was back to what most people could call normal. He was still clinging on to Tim for dear life, but that was alright. 

“There you go,” Tim praised, his voice unbelievably soft as he brought his hand up to rest on the back of Jonny's neck, gently playing with the short hairs there, “you’re alright, yeah?” he asked and Jonny nodded.

“Sorry for waking you up,” Jonny muttered into his neck, the post panic attack guilt setting in fast and strong. 

“Don’t apologize, it’s not like it really matters anyway,” Tim said dismissively, pushing Jonny’s hair behind his ears. Jonny was debating shaving it off, and Tim said he’d like how he looked either way. He briefly thought that maybe they could do it tomorrow, before more guilt set in at how nice Tim was being. At how nice he’d always been. 

“Yeah, but-”

“Jonny, no. I’m not going to let you feel guilty about this, okay? You have nothing to feel bad over. Now, do you wanna go get some snacks or stay here and cuddle?”

Jonny thought about it for a while before answering. “Stay here,” he said, “I’m comfortable. Not sure I’ll be able to go back to sleep though, that dream kinda fucked me up.”

“I can imagine. But that’s alright, we can just stay here,” Tim said, tightening his hold on Jonny a bit as he talked. 

And that was how they spent the night, in each other’s arms exchanging stories and jokes, and for one night everything was alright. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this isn't related to anything but fucking verb tenses will be the death of me as a writer. You'd think after 18 years I would have maybe figured them out, but no.


End file.
